


Better Off Alone (But Let The Right Ones In)

by StarTravel



Category: Constantine (TV), DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, John Constantine Centric, John Constantine Needs A Hug, John Slowly Learning to Let People in and Love Himself, Self-Hatred, Team Bonding, Team as Family, That's What Happens When You're both Self-Loathing and Arrogant, Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:20:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23622208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarTravel/pseuds/StarTravel
Summary: John Constantine knew better to let himself make friends or, God forbid, fall in love. That didn't stop him from doing both over and over again.
Relationships: Charlie & John Constantine, Chas Chandler & John Constantine, John Constantine & Ray Palmer, John Constantine & Team Legends, John Constantine/Desmond, John Constantine/Gary Green, John Constantine/Mary "Zed" Martin, Nora Dahrk & John Constantine
Comments: 6
Kudos: 91





	Better Off Alone (But Let The Right Ones In)

**Author's Note:**

> My first time writing for Constantine/Legends after rewatching both recently due to the Quarantine times/furlough.
> 
> Beta'd by the amazing Aidaran!

It wouldn’t be so easy to break things off with Gary if John didn’t actually like the man, just a little. And John knew himself well enough to know that a little could easily become a lot, if he let it. Gary was a good man, a better man than John had any right touching in the first place. But he’d always been a selfish bastard, and when Gary had smiled at him after their kiss, so open and earnest, looking at John like he was something precious -- well. John let Gary take him to his DnD game and then to his bed, and he figured the frankly excellent blow job he gave the other man was probably pay back enough for the way Gary smiled at him.

If it had only happened, once, that was. The second time was almost by accident, John a little drunk in a bar in DC listening to Gary explaining something about the Time Bureau. He didn’t properly remember if he kissed him to shut him up or because he was cute. John supposed it didn’t right matter. The third time was after the two of them showed up to bother the Legends about the magic they’d unleashed on the world, and what would the therapist he refused to see say about that one?

John remembered pulling off Gary’s terrible wig, running his hands through that curly black hair and pulling him down against a beach cabana. _‘I happen ta prefer you like this_ ’, he whispered against Gary’s skin and he didn't look up to catch if the other man realized it was because John had never hated someone as much as he did himself. He was a right bastard, and it chilled something in him to see sweet, naive Gary wrapping himself up in that darkness.

So John ended things before they could become anything, before Gary could be further entranced by what few charms John had or ended up disappointed when he realized all those things in John’s files were true. 

John took Gary out for lunch, knocking back a glass of whiskey too quickly to be strictly casual. He smiled at Gary, gaze easy and careless. “Gary, mate, the last few weeks getting to know you have been … a trip, but I’ve got to be on my way.”

“The fight between good and evil calls?” Gary asked softly, and his gaze had a note adoring to it that made John’s fingers curl a bit tighter around the edge of his glass. No one had looked at John like that since Newcastle. He’d be damned if he let someone like Gary keep looking at him like that now. Gary leaned in toward him, sliding his hands under his chin and smile bright in a way that John was pretty sure was normally reserved for cartoons. “I take it you’re going to be joining up with the Legends?”

John spluttered and nearly spit his whiskey out across the table, not sure if he wanted to laugh or cry. John Constantine, a Legend. Not bloody likely. “You couldn’t pay me to get on the Waverider with that lot, squire. I do better on my own.”

“But you were a part of a team for at least a year. We have it on file.” Gary gave him a bemused look, brow furrowing in a way that would be adorable if his words didn’t make John’s heart clench. Yeah, he’d been a part of a team all right. There was a reason he wasn’t now, why he only checked on Chas from miles away now and Zed … well, John didn’t even know if she was alive. He was too afraid to find out.

“And during that year I learned it wasn’t for me. I’ll see you around, Gary.” John gave him a half nod and stood up from his chair, dropping a few bills on the table. Gary met his gaze, weak smile not quite hiding the hurt in his eyes. Good. Maybe that meant Gary would realize that John was exactly the type of man he didn’t want to get involved with, would realize he wasn’t some dashing tragic hero. He was the bastard who poisoned everything he touched and never paid.

“Take care of yourself, John.” Gary murmured, and there was something soft and almost knowing in his gaze. John swallowed at the look and forced himself to walk out the door. John liked Gary enough not to let him hang around. Maybe that meant he was finally starting to grow up a bit.

Then John went to New Orleans. 

* * *

John had always been easy for warm brown eyes and playful smirks, and fuck him if Desmond didn’t have both. He wasn’t even surprised to find himself spread out on the man’s sheets before the night was out. John was surprised to find himself still there a few weeks later, Desmond’s arm wrapped around his waist and breath warm on the back of his throat. John knew better than this. Desmond was a good man with a normal life, rudimentary knowledge of magic aside. Sleeping with Des was fine, but cuddling the morning after and breakfast dates was out of the question. And yet here he was, Des’ lips brushing against the shell of his ear. “Tell me what you’re brooding about, Johnny.”

“Trust me love, you wouldn’t be asking that if you knew me.” John murmured back as he rolled over so his face was pressed against Desmond’s chest. He pulled back enough to look up at him, his usually charming smile laced with something twisted and ugly, eyes flashing with the memories of every person he’d let down. Most people have enough sense to walk away from him when they saw his true face (Chas hadn’t. Neither had Zed. He never gave Gary a chance to find out). 

Desmond didn’t, instead pulling him closer to him, lips brushing against John’s forehead. John leaned into the touch and wondered when he’d become so pathetic, grasping at whatever scraps of affection he could get. Maybe it was years of loneliness catching up to him, or Chas being gone, or maybe it was just something about Des that made him want to be vulnerable even when he knew the risks. Des pulled back, gaze kind and voice soft but firm, and yeah, it was probably something about Des. “I know all about you, John Constantine.”

“Do you now? Then let me tell you a little story about Newcastle.” John didn’t leave anything out for once, including every gritty detail from the way Astra’s screams stopped, the way Nergal’s laugh sounded, how the light went out of Gaz’s eyes and never quite came back. He told him about the months after, the nights lost to blackouts and petty crimes, the years he spent in and out of in-patient treatment for nightmares and addictions he couldn’t explain because demons weren’t real, the friends he abandoned and the ones he used. He told him everything and Desmond just held his gaze and said, “Okay.” And he kept saying “Okay” until John believed him, opening himself up inch by inch until John thought maybe he could have this after all.

Until Des had said “okay” and it wasn’t, and John is alone and Des was trapped in hell, another person he loved and damned because John Constantine deserves a lot of bloody things, but love wasn’t one of them. 

John found himself back at the hovel, downing whiskey for as long as his shaking fingers could hold the bottle up. He remembered Chas’ worried gaze as he spread a blanket over him, the way he let John press his face against his shoulder and sob. Chas didn’t ask him where he’d been. He just asked him to stay. John whispered “Okay” and was gone before Chas woke up. 

This was one of the things John Constantine couldn’t let himself have. 

* * *

John found himself on the Waverider despite what he said to Gary and Sara, running from both his figurative and literal demons. He wasn’t good at much, for much, but he’d always had a knack for survival. John tried to keep to himself, but somehow a different Legend seemed to find their way to his room every night, Sara dragging him out for shots of whiskey or Zari dragging him out of his room for DnD with her and Ray. Tonight Ray didn’t even bother coming up with an excuse, just pushing his way through the door and sitting on the edge of John’s bed like they were friends. 

John supposed that Ray thought they were, between everything that happened at camp and everything that happened with Nora afterwards. John had come closer to death than he liked that time. Really, he had been coming a bit closer to it since he stepped onto the Waverider. John wasn’t sure if that was by chance or because some part of him was sick of running. Ray here thought it was because John was some kind of hero, which was bloody rich. 

Maybe that was why he was here, to give John another speech about how he was a good man or some nonsense about teamwork, or to rhapsodize about Nora Dahrk. Ray finally spoke after a moment of hesitation, gaze far too curious for John’s liking and his smile too kind by half. “So, what happened to your friend?”

“What the hell are you talking about?” John snapped without quite as much heat as he’d like in that ridiculously earnest face. He swore he was getting soft the longer he stayed on the Waverider. John shook his head, reaching for a cigarette and giving Ray a flat look when he pressed his lips together in disapproval. “Look, Squire, you can’t complain about me smoking in my own room - and not a word out of you, Gideon. Now, what friend do you mean?”

“Back at camp, you said you had a friend who was good and trusting, like me.” For a second Ray smiled brightly, looking almost touched by John’s words and John had to swallow down a bitter laugh. He couldn’t help noticing Ray left out the part about hoping he was smarter. John swallowed and wondered if... “What happened to him?”

“I left town and now he’s happily married with a beautiful daughter.” John shrugged without looking up at Ray, fingers twisting more tightly around his cigarette. It wasn’t a lie, not exactly. The idea of Chas and Renee being happy might be a bit of an exaggeration, but … he _was_ happy to be with his daughter, to be living the kind of life he’d had before John ruined it. If he wondered where John was, why and how he’d vanished from his life without so much as a goodbye … well, it was better that way. It was safer for Chas to hate him. “Bollocks, you don’t give up, do you? We had a falling out. It happens, not everyone can be like you, squire.”

“You should let him know you’re … well, I guess alright would be an exaggeration.” Ray’s hand was on his shoulder, firm and comforting in a way John had never deserved. John finally looked up at him, swallowing tightly when he saw the concern in those eyes. Yeah, Ray was far too much like Chas to be out here seeing the ugliest parts of humanity and beyond. “But alive and you being in DC … ish, at least.”

“Trust me, it’s better that I don’t, mate.” John whispered before he blew out a bit of smoke in Ray’s face. Ray wrinkled his nose but got the hint, sliding out the door before John had to say anything else. Maybe he was a bit smarter than Chas after all. Or maybe he wasn’t the lost cause Raymond here was interested in, which still meant he was safer than Chas had been for all those years before John finally let him go.

No, he couldn’t let Chas know where he was, because if he did, Chas would stay. And John would let him. He didn't want to be that selfish anymore. 

* * *

John wanted to be alone, lighting up cigarettes in the library until everyone got the picture and left him alone. Well, almost everyone. Charlie came and sat down next to him on the couch in the library crossing her legs and stealing his glass of whiskey straight out of his hands. John scoffed and grabbed the bottle instead, taking a long swig out of it. 

Charlie stared down at him, her gaze sharp and decades older than the rest of her face - Amaya’s face - and haunting in a way John appreciated. The other Legends, even Sara, were too good, too naive at their core. They looked at John and saw someone worth helping, because they’d been people who could be saved once. 

Charlie though, she knew better. He knew, because sometimes John caught her watching him, her gaze filled with an emotion he’d seen a number of angels and demons shoot his way over the years. Hate. He could respect that, he deserved that. She suddenly leaned over, punching him on the shoulder and smiling gleefully despite the sharpness in her eyes. “Can’t believe you forgot me, Johnno.”

“You should count yourself lucky.” John shrugged as he took another drag of his cigarette, not quite meeting her eyes. No one had admitted anything that bad when the truth bug shot down their throat, but who knew what might’ve been said if Charlie was there? One too many sparks could turn a flame into a fire. John grinned at her, holding his bottle up as though in some kind of half-assed apology. “Wasn’t just me, love. Should’ve looked less like Nixon.”

“You’re right, I should’ve.” Charlie’s voice was pointed as she clanged her glass against his, leaning toward him with her free hand propped under her chin. Her gaze was sharp, suspicious and hopeful in equal measures as she leaned against him, almost like they were … but no. He already had more friends than he should, and he’d already hurt Charlie more than she deserved. “Johnno, why didn’t your spell work right?”

“I’m a dabbler, not a master.” John defended as he held his cigarette up to his mouth, trying to look casual. She snorted and put her glass down, shaking her head and smiling in a way that almost seemed dangerous. He really needed to get off this bloody ship.

“Not what your card says, Mate. Half of magic is intention, maybe you just felt bad about it.” Charlie said it casually, stretching her arms out in front of her and wrapping her right hand around her left wrist. John choked on his cigarette smoke, trying to hide his cough in his sleeve. She stared at him out of the corner of her eye, something almost like pity in her gaze. “Unlike the rest of the Legends, you bloody well know what stripping magic from someone does to them.” 

And with those damning words, Charlie swiped his bottle of whiskey and left him alone.

* * *

John planned on getting away from the Waverider and the Legends as soon as he could after they defeated Neron, for his sake and for theirs. John didn’t think they’d put up much of a fight either; he was pretty sure Sara was still pissed at him for letting Nate play the sacrifice card. He didn’t know where he’d go from here. New Orleans was off limits for him now and he couldn’t go back to the Hovel. Chas might not live there anymore, but he was close enough to be a temptation. He couldn’t risk that.

He didn’t feel like going back home yet, not with all the ex friends and ghosts waiting for him there. Maybe he’d go to LA, bother Luci and Mazikeen for a few months. They could use the help and he could think of all kinds of fun he could have with the both of them. 

Then all of his plans were derailed, Gary and Nora, still dressed up in blue taffeta, suddenly appeared in front of him. Gary smiled at him, eyes bright and excited as he gave him a small wave. John half expected the man to pull him into a kiss, or for John to find out that he had drunkenly accepted a job with the Time Bureau and forgotten about it. Instead Gary said something far more damning. “It was my last wish, to be your apprentice.”

“To be my what?” John asked in a choked voice, blinking a few times and hoping he would wake up soon. He had apprentices of sorts before and it never ended well for them, especially not the ones John liked. Gary Lester ended up dead, Ritchie was overwhelmed with guilt, and Zed … he’d as good as killed her. John let her in, trusted her, almost let himself fall in love with her, and it had condemned Zed just like it did everyone else he touched.

He only hoped that getting out of her life when he had meant she’d survived after all. 

“Apprentice. And you did say I had a way with magic.” Gary’s voice rang out, grinning goofily and frankly looking a bit ridiculous. No one should be that enthusiastic, especially not about doing something as moronic as tying their fate to his. But Gary … He didn’t know who John Constantine was, not really. And John didn’t want him to find out. 

“That’s not exactly -- Nora, love, could I talk to you for a minute?” John snapped, voice rising as he glanced between them pointedly. Eventually Gary seemed to get the message, muttering something about getting them all coffee. Once he was out of sight, John deflated, voice tired and just a bit pained when he spoke. “What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing?”

“It was his wish, I granted it.” Nora shrugged as though it wasn’t a big deal, wrinkling her nose a little as she gave him a flat look. John wondered if he could trick her into being his Fairy Godmother and undo it somehow. God knew he was probably the saddest bastard around for several blocks. Nora gave him an understanding look, her hand suddenly coming up to rest on his arm as though to comfort him. “He can still leave, John, he’s not permanently bound to you.”

“But he will be. I know people like Gary, Nora. They’re not smart enough to know when they’ve picked a lost cause.” John warned her as his voice started to shake, gaze flashing with memories of Chas and Zed and Gaz and Natalie. None of them had been willing to let him go until he pushed them away, and it’d cost half of them everything and Chas and Zed more than enough. He wasn’t going to let Gary pay that price too. He gave Nora a small, crooked smile and hoped she could understand just a little. “It’s not like you and Ray, love.” 

“Maybe it could be, if you’d let it.” Nora smiled at him, small and hopeful, like she actually believed that, like she didn’t remember that she was another child John had failed. Then she was gone in a puff of blue smoke, leaving John alone on the street when Gary came out with two cups of coffee. He should’ve sent him away, but it turned out he was still a bit more selfish than he should be.

* * *

John found himself sitting in the mostly empty kitchen in his house, the sun just starting to peek out over the horizon. Everyone else would be heading toward the Waverider again and John would be alone with his ghosts. He was happy for Nora, that she’d managed to overcome hers enough to find something real with Ray. John had never been much for romance, but they both deserved that much after everything they’d been through. Still, he couldn’t help feeling a bit down about it, and he couldn’t think of a better way of handling that than knocking back shots.

John raised an eyebrow when he saw Charlie push through the back doors, arms crossed as she walked over and leaned on the counter in front of him, raising an eyebrow. She gave him the same look she’d given him a few times before, almost but not quite pity. “Party’s out there, mate, and Gary’ll be heartbroken if you don’t dance with him at least once.”

“You didn’t come and see me before I died, Charlie.” The words were out of his mouth before he could think better of it, not that he ever did. Her eyes widened in surprise, lips twisting as she leaned across the table so they were eye to eye. John closed his eyes and swallowed down a glass of bourbon, hoping that when he opened his eyes, Charlie would be long gone. No such luck. 

“I already said I’d help you find the loom, Johnno, you don’t need to make me feel guilty.” Charlie grinned over at him, gaze softening a fraction. She was giving him an out. He should take it. He gave her a tight smile, trying to force a twinkle in his eye. Apparently he must be getting rusty, because something in her gaze changed, one hand reaching out to lie flat on the table between them. “If you wanted me there, you could’ve asked. I’d have found a way to come with.”

“Thought you’d at least come and get a last few jibes in, love.” John shrugged as he shook his head, wondering how many more glasses of bourbon it would take before he’d really feel it. Right now his emotions were too close to the surface and he was afraid he’d end up doing something stupid, like calling Chas or actually asking Gary to dance. Instead, he looked up at Charlie, hands shaking a bit as he reached for another handful of sunflower seeds. Somehow they didn’t have the same effect as cigarettes.

“You wanted me there to insult you? God, you’re a piece of work, John Constantine.” Charlie laughed, bright and just a little too loud as she took his bourbon from him, her hand wrapped protectively around the neck of the bottle. She pulled it away from his grasp, her expression softening just enough to make John feel out of sorts. “I wouldn’t have, for what it’s worth. Don’t really want any of my mates to die.”

Oh. John swallowed again at that, something burning in the back of his eyes that he blamed on the bourbon. He knew none of the Legends wanted him to die. Ray had tried to get him to go to a real doctor, and hell, Gary had _cried_ for him and when was the last time someone had done something like that? Still there was something about hearing it said out loud that stabbed him in the gut. Especially from Charlie, Charlie who drank with him and broke into his house and believed him when he promised to help her destroy the loom once they saved Astra. Charlie, who he almost sent to hell because it was the only thing he seemed to know how to do. “You still think I’m a right bastard, don’t you, Charlie?”

“Not all the time.” Charlie told him softly before giving his shoulder a quick shake, smiling at him lopsidedly. John let out a strangled laugh, surprised to find that for once someone saying that didn’t make his stomach burn as much as it would’ve a few years ago. “Now c’mon, stop mopin’ and come celebrate with the rest of us.”

And John did, letting Sara pull him into some kind of family photo. Maybe he’d even end up dancing.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and questions are loved!


End file.
